Notes from the Third Music Room
by paynesgrey
Summary: Just a collection of drabbles and ficlets from the anime and manga series, Ouran High School Host Club. Look forward to comedy, introspection, and a variety of genres and pairings. All ficlets are complete.
1. Glasses

**Title:** Glasses   
**Rating:** PG-ish  
**Words:** 100  
**Spoilers:** Around episode 8  
**Characters/Pairings:** slight Kyouya/Haruhi   
**Disclaimer:** I don't own these Ouran characters. Nope, not mine.

Haruhi sees something in the motions of Kyouya's glasses – taking them off, putting them on, pushing them up – defining him differently each time.

With glasses on, Kyouya is typical; people only see what he allows them to see.

Pushing them up, with eyes closed he slips into transit. He moves between worlds, doors closing and opening from one to the next.

Haruhi has seen the other, rare motion by accident. Without glasses, Kyouya is raw, eyes unbridled from barriers that usually adorn his face. 

Without glasses, his alluring look drives her desire – her curiosity smoldering to probe into him further.


	2. I'm Not Your Toy, Renge

Theme: Toys 

I'm Not Your Toy, Renge

Most girls who ever encountered Honey-sempai were prone to underestimating him based on his cute childlike looks, and in this instance, Renge was no different.

It was no surprise to any of the Host Club members when Renge got involved into a new manga series about a younger boy-loving heroine, that she would draw them into her obsession one way or another.

This time Honey was the unlikely target of Renge's latest interest, and although he didn't mind too much, even Honey could only take so much from her.

He readily expected the cosplay, and having a bit more of her attention was understandable. However, the hugging, the doting, and the violent monopolizing of his time away from Mori and his precious sweets were ... _unforgivable_.

Enough was enough. He certainly was nobody's toy (maybe Mori's sometime if he'd ever asked), and he was annoyed with the fact that Renge, or any girl for that matter, would use him in such away just because he was small, cute and visually childlike. But underneath it all, he was still a growing young man, and he was even _older_ than Renge.

Adorned in the school uniform of the character from the story, Honey complied to mimic the character only for a time until Renge got really into her part, squealing and prancing around as if she really was the character herself.

Honey, cool and calculated underneath that cuteness, found the perfect time to strike. Renge ruffled his hair for about the fortieth time and squeezed him tightly to her chest. But unbeknownst to her, Honey suddenly parted from her embrace and drew back.

Renge was startled for a moment by his sudden withdrawal and became even more surprised when he grabbed her tightly – those strong, karate arms coming in handy – and then reached up and kissed her full on the lips and throwing a slobbering tongue in there for good measure. It was certainly an _adult_ kiss.

Renge was too shocked to speak. Honey reverted back to himself and gave her a flowery squeal of glee. The rest of the Host Club was utterly silenced.

"Whee, Renge-chan! This was fun. We should do it again!" Then he bounded off to his table of sweets with Mori eyeing him a little more incredulously than his placid face ever had managed.

Renge slapped her hands over her mouth, tasting the remnants of Honey's kiss.

Feeling embarrassed, bewildered, and a bit _violated_, needless to say, Renge never asked Honey to cosplay as her love interest again.


	3. A Ladylike Air

**Theme: Blunder**

A Ladylike Air

Haruhi took a long, hard sigh. She should have known that such a thing would make waves at the Host Club.

And on cue, the president was upping the dramatics and cavorting around the room noisily, making a big deal out of _nothing_.

Despite the horror of her offense, Tamaki seemed to be the only one having a problem with it, while the others reacted to the matter with their own personal quirks.

Kyouya was scribbling at his tablet, no doubt wondering whether or not such a surprising blunder by a Host Club member could generate profit.

Mori and Hunny seemed to look on silently, although Hunny seemed to be more interested in the matter than Mori was.

The twins, on the other hand, seemed to find it amusing. And in their amusement, they only seemed to goad their lord further.

She had to admit even among common folk, what she did wasn't _exactly_ smiled upon.

She surveyed Tamaki in exasperation as he started chanting the horrors of her misdeed, how unladylike such a phenomenon was, and how he didn't know how long it would be before he considered Haruhi cute again. The twins' mischief increased by agreeing with him, escalating the severity of Haruhi's action even more than it needed.

"How nasty!" they chanted together, and their words caused a ripple effect of sobs from their lord. "What a naughty girl!"

"OH! This is terrible – TERRIBLE! Such an action should never grace the delicate figure of a proper young lady. I am saddened that your lack of manners is apparent by corruption of your status, your constant exposure to these terrible twins …"

"Hey!"

"Sempai…" 

Tamaki grabbed her hand quickly and gazed into her eyes, filling with so much hope and wonder she had to struggle to keep her stomach from retching at the pure sap.

"Upon my honor as your father, I will instruct you in the ways befitting for a lady…"

"Uh, I don't – "

He interrupted her more loudly. "I will make sure un-cute things never arise from your body again! I solemnly swear…"

"Hey!" She flushed with anger as he drew her into his chest.

"…On your honor that I will never let such things happen again. And with the first step at making Haruhi into a well-mannered young lady, we must get you into a beautiful dress…"

"Sempai!" She flung him off, finally tiring of his crazy antics. She huffed and then snarled at him. "Knock it off already! It was just a slip."

"But Haruhi!" His eyes became full with tears and he seemed affronted that she would deny his help.

"What's the big deal anyway? It's completely natural! It's not like you haven't farted before!"

Then, she began to regret her word choice as Tamaki became bothered once again. Haruhi groaned inwardly and wondered if his noise would ever end.

'Idiot.' And she realized the more Tamaki carried on about it, the less she felt guilty about what she did.


	4. Best for Haruhi

**Word Count:** 480  
**Characters/Pairings:** ensemble piece, slight Kyouya/Haruhi  
**Rated:** G

* * *

Best for Haruhi  
  
Tamaki sulked in the corner, growing mushrooms and pouting as usual. Haruhi turned and gave him a backward glance, sighing as her senpai threw another one of his tantrums for attention.

"Come on, tono," Kaoru said to Tamaki. "What's the big deal? So you lost. It's just a game." Hikaru nodded beside him, and the twins turned their attention to Tamaki, who still didn't budge from the corner.

"Senpai," Haruhi sighed, forcing a smile. He looked at her with a cold expression, desperate for her to over-turn the rules of the last game and lead him to victory. Instead she said, "Stop that sulking. We're going to play another game, and we need another player."

Tamaki barely budged from the corner, giving puppy eyes to Haruhi who had already turned back to the circle of players. Kyouya stepped into the conversation, pushing up his glasses and smiling confidently. He made the situation worse by putting his arm around Haruhi and leaning her into his chest. "Oh my dear daughter," Kyouya mimicked; the twins snickered as Tamaki became more interested in Kyouya's closeness to Haruhi. "The game proves that I would be the best father for you among the Host Club members. Poor Tamaki will just have to settle for one of your brothers."

Tamaki's expression turned to stone, and Haruhi sighed again. She knew that Kyouya was egging him on, and since he'd become the 'winner' of the game on who would be the best father for Haruhi, Kyouya had found the perfect opportunity to rub it in. Haruhi supposed he was getting back at the president for labeling him with the effeminate 'mother' role, and it was more than obvious Tamaki desperately coveted the 'father' role, as he always seemed to proclaim himself.

Haruhi pushed Kyouya lightly away and turned back to the circle. She began shuffling the deck of cards, hoping in time that they would stop teasing Tamaki and get on with their afternoon games. Instead, Hikaru had chimed in with another devilish idea, and Haruhi became rather tired of sighing in exasperation.

"I know! Let's play another game," he suggested. He halted Haruhi's card shuffling and then looked to his brother mischievously. "Why don't we play, who would be the best 'husband' for Haruhi?"

"No... You guys, stop that..." Haruhi protested, but no one was taking her interests to heart. She stared at them wide-eyed and thought, 'It's just another male competition to them!'

And as soon as Hikaru and Kaoru agreed to it, Kyouya looked back at a now-interested Tamaki and proclaimed, "I suppose I'm just going to win this game too." And his nonchalance seemed to stir vigor in Tamaki's pouting eyes.

In a quick moment, Tamaki had dashed from the corner back to the circle, rubbing elbows with Kyouya and hell-bent on winning the new game.


	5. Taste Like a Kiss

**AN: ourancontest at LJ theme: Distance**

* * *

Taste Like a Kiss 

For a couple days Mori felt ashamed for answering Tamaki's question of not wanting to kiss Mitsukuni, and he tried to keep an emotional distance from his spirited, adorable friend. He knew deep inside that it wasn't true, but after being put on the spot, Mori had answered quickly without really thinking. Obviously, someone in the Host Club (Renge) had spread his answer among the female guests, which had bemoaned in shock to his meaning. After some serious contemplation, he wondered if his quick answer had been true or not.

He tightened his lips on his usual expressionless face and watched Mitsukuni as he happily ate a slice of sweet strawberry shortcake. Whether or not Mitsukuni picked up on Mori's internal dilemma, his friend had made no show of disappointment toward his refusal to want to kiss him.

'I wonder if he already knows,' Mori mused to himself. And he was close enough to Mitsukuni to know that underneath the child-like, carefree disposition he was really intuitive and understood Mori very well.

Mori had hoped that his callous answer did not affect him at all.

As Mitsukuni continued to eat, Mori silently delighted in his gurgling and squealing while enjoying the cake. His eyes traced over Mitsukuni's soft, light brown hair, and Mori suddenly had this urge to touch it. He reached over, and Mitsukuni froze as he felt Mori's fingers tousle his hair and pat him on the head as if to soothe him. Mitsukuni looked up curiously, meeting Mori's eyes with inquiry.

"Your hair is soft, Mitsukuni," Mori announced as a matter-of-factly, and he felt drowned out by the gaggle of girls that cooed at their intimate interaction. This was one of those times Mori did not want the Host Club's guests to be around.

Mitsukuni smiled brightly at him. "Do you want some cake, Takashi?"

His large brown eyes looked into Mori's dark ones, and Mori felt a flutter in his stomach, though it was not for the food. A small smile accompanied a nod, and Mori looked down at the slice of cake, already be-speckled with bite marks after Mitsukuni had abandoned his utensils to tear into the confection directly. Mori stared at the bite marks momentarily, and he felt inkling to do the same. Mitsukuni giggled at him as he picked up the cake on the plate, and bit off a large portion.

The piece of cake once graced by Mitsukuni's teeth was now touched by Mori's own lips, and in that, Mori felt a rejuvenated connection to Mitsukuni.

Eating it was like sharing an indirect kiss.

"Well, do you like it?" Mitsukuni asked with large eyes. The female fans in the background were watching the scene with great intensity.

Mori spoke, "Delicious." And he raised his hand and lightly pushed away a strand of Mitsukuni's hair that had fallen over his eyes.

Mitsukuni laughed lightly, and the contented hum in Mori's heart overturned the voices cheering in the background.


	6. Need

AN: Renge/Kyouya drabble. Written for the "servant" theme at ouran contest on Livejournal.

Need

She would do almost anything for him, even despite their introduction – even after all the drama and misconception. However, there was a catch. Renge just didn't do things for other people because she was generous by nature. There had to be a purpose for her services, a certain value, and usually only to her.

If he entrusted her to organize the clubs activities, she would, but not because he expected it or asked her to fulfill her self-appointed duties as manager. She would do it because they were a sad sorry bunch with little direction.

The Ouran High School Host Club needed Renge. They'd utterly fall apart without her management, and Kyouya should be thankful for the revenue she brought in.

To be frank, they all needed her. _Kyouya Ootori_ needed her.

--

He would probably do just about anything for her, even after her initial wild antics. Even after she single-handedly took over the club and proclaimed herself their manager. However, there was a price. In truth, the club probably didn't need a manager. Kyouya had been fine to go along with Tamaki's usual whims since the beginning.

He didn't need a _female_ Tamaki to tell him what to do. However, he understood she brought them sufficient attention and added her feminine perspective to the club – something Haruhi was usually dense about.

Her intuitive and observant nature was no doubt a worthy contribution. The poor girl was obviously craving the opportunity to utilize her copious skills. Kyouya feared for the school, and maybe the world, if Renge had nothing to do and actually had to sit still. In foresight, the consequences would be catastrophic.

So he let her have her way. He let her manage her crazy and sometimes amusing schemes. She brought in a larger percentage of business than he or Tamaki had ever done, and Kyouya was content to sit back into the shadows as Renge ran the show.

Side-by-side they would watch their prosperous ventures with mutual pride. Renge would turn her face to his, and he would meet her bright eyes. Nodding appreciatively, they would always get stuck in a long moment and find it difficult to look away.

They smiled together, and behind their true intentions and services to each other, a pensive solidarity existed between them.

She needed him, and though he would never admit to it in words, he also needed her.


	7. Each Initial Breath

AN: Done for the "Impending Doom" drabble theme at ouran contest on Livejournal.

Each Initial Breath

_Haruhi, just breathe,_ she told herself. What had meant to be a calm, collected breath had come out sounding like a disjointed ragged sigh.

She shook her head.

She'd read the shoujo manga. She'd read the magazines. She'd even gone so far as surf the internet. But there was one common theme among them all.

If she was going to confess to someone, she had to be honest. What was the golden advice they had all told her? The worst thing that could happen was rejection. He could say _no_.

And with Tamaki and his abounding popularity with girls, Haruhi felt a pang of fear that it could be a strong possibility.

Maybe he really did see her as his 'daughter', though he had told her otherwise just recently. Haruhi bit her lip. She furrowed her brow and tried to make herself mad. "This is just silly," she said under her breath.

She waited in the third music room as a cloud of doom settled over her. Maybe she wouldn't tell him today. Maybe… maybe she could put it off. After all, she had convinced herself that she had more important things to do. She had to finish high school, and then there was college, and law school. Who knew? She could even study law abroad if the opportunity presented itself. Then she'd never see Tamaki again. Her confession wouldn't even matter.

Maybe she would feel stronger feelings for someone else someday?

She blew out another breath. The last part was supposed to make her feel better – at least, give her more courage. It had the opposite effect.

Her heart sank when Kyouya entered the room instead of Tamaki. It looked like her opportunity was fading. Kyouya looked over at her with a curious expression.

"Haruhi, what are you doing here? The club doesn't meet here today," he said

"I was supposed to meet Tamaki-senpai here. Have you seen him?" Haruhi said. It was perfectly legitimate. No, she didn't think it was suspicious at all.

Another ragged breath escaped her.

Kyouya looked thoughtful. "Ah, I thought I heard him mentioning he was going to meet you."

Haruhi nodded quickly, but turned away to feign interest in her open schoolbook on the table. "Why are you here?"

"Just picking up a disk I needed." The drawer he was fishing through closed shut, and she could hear it reverberate within the room. "I'll be going."

The room was empty again, and the cloud of doom seemed to get heavier over her head. She rested her head on the open book and for the millionth time, asked herself what the hell she was doing.

Her eyes flashed open, and she lifted her head from a sound outside the door. She swallowed hard and heard footsteps coming closer, stopping just at the entrance.

She told herself to breathe. The door opened, and she caught the sunlight color of his hair.

Haruhi stood up and faced him. It was time.


	8. Best Remedy

AN: Done for the "Blood" theme at ouran contest on LJ. Pairing: Tamaki/Haruhi.

Best Remedy

Tamaki wailed. He cried so loudly Haruhi thought her ears were going to explode. She sighed and turned to him.

"What's your problem?" she asked in an exasperated huff.

"You're hurt! Wounded!" he said, grasping her finger delicately. She had already put a band-aid on the small cut, and if it wasn't for his overblown reaction, she'd be back to enjoying her meal.

"It's only a scratch and not even bleeding. Don't worry," she said soothingly, waving him off.

"But, but, it could get infected!" He sniffled.

She groaned. "Don't be silly. Now let go," she said, removing her finger from his grasp and quickly returning to her meal. She stared anxiously at the remaining crab legs on her plate. It was a heavenly meal, and she was thankful Tamaki's grandmother was away so she could come over for dinner. She picked up another clawed morsel, but Tamaki continued to whimper fretfully next to her.

"Stop it," she chided, cracking the claw. She tried to ignore him, but his protective stare made her feel exposed and annoyed. She could only think of one thing to do in that moment to settle him down.

She threw the empty crab claw at his head, the same one that gave her the small cut.

"Hey!" he cried in surprise, and Haruhi turned to give him a 'you-deserved-it' expression. She looked at Tamaki's cheek and noticed a small red cut.

Suddenly, the situation became amusing to her, and she couldn't hold back her impending laugh. Tamaki looked curiously at her, so she reached up her finger and delicately touched the area beside his cut. "Look, senpai, we're both wounded now!"

Tamaki blushed brightly, and he turned around in embarrassment and focused on his plate. She was finally able to go back to her own meal, feeling aptly satisfied when he finally behaved.

Haruhi already had a lot of good practice dealing with Tamaki, and knew that using a juvenile offense was always the best remedy to match his expected exaggerated fuss.


	9. Unexpected Impressions

AN: Written for the "Weakness" theme at ouran_contest on Livejournal. Pairing: Éclair/Kyouya. Spoilers: end of the anime. Rated: PG-13. Word Count: 500. This will not be continued.

Unexpected Impressions

Ootori Kyouya is the master of tying up loose ends. After his dance with Haruhi, he politely excuses himself from the dance and orders a car to the airport. When he arrives, he finds Eclair Tonnerre, waiting for him with an exasperated scowl.

"This isn't necessary," she says. Kyouya only smiles.

"I want to make sure this business is over," he says. He hands her an ornate envelope, and she frowns while taking it. When he leaves, she opens it tentatively and finds two unexpected items inside: a note that says "Stay."

And a hotel key. She grips the key in her palm and her throat turns dry.

OOOOOOO

Eclair curses under her breath. She shouldn't even be giving Kyouya the satisfaction of her attention. She should have just ignored him and flew back to France.

But she can't. She's shown a weakness, even it is to Tamaki, and she must settle this and recover her name. More than anything, she needs to find out what Ootori Kyouya is really planning.

She hears a knock at the front. She lets him wait a moment as she glares at the door in the dim yellow light. When she opens it, Kyouya is out of his school uniform and wearing a dark gray suit. His smile is the same, cryptic and ominous.

"I was impressed by you," he says. She lets him inside, but doesn't respond. Their eyes meet, and Eclair searches for softness. She wonders what Tamaki sees in this boy as a friend, or if there's a scarier unknown that Kyouya hasn't revealed yet. She knows his type though; they are alike, and she assumes that Kyouya has realized this too.

"So, is this an invitation or bribery?" she asks, and she watches one of his eyebrows rise. "I won't fight for him. The girl can have him."

"Tamaki isn't the issue here," Kyouya says, and he walks to the edge of the bed, sitting down to the spot nearest the lamp. "As I said, I was impressed." He tilts his head. "This isn't bribery." He pats the spot next to him on the bed, and she looks angrily at the comforter, anxious and fearful of why he wants her to sit so close. She complies, but only because his staring is so annoying. She sits down, crosses her legs, and huffs.

"Well, what is your offer?" Her eyes meet his gaze, and she tries to look past the intrigue. Instead, she is surprised, letting a cry escape her lips as he grips her wrist _hard._ She gasps, and she watches him turn off the lamp.

His voice drops, barely a whisper. "I'm making an offer of marriage, Tonnerre, a union that will benefit us both, in family and in consequence."

Her breath escapes her lips, and she searches for his expression in the dark room. His words sink within, holding more meaning than she's ever seen past the shadows and grit.

Then, Eclair Tonnerre actually considers him.


	10. Tightrope

AN: Written for the "line" challenge at ouran_contest on Livejournal. Rating: PG-13. Kyouya/Tamaki/Haruhi (OT3). Word Count: 464. Post-Series.

* * *

The Tightrope

He corners her in the hotel hallway, and when she realizes she's trapped, Haruhi purses her lips and looks to him with wide eyes. His hand traces down her cheek, softly, and he smiles down at her, studying her so intensely she feels that he can rip through to her deep, dark secrets.

"What are you doing?" she asks, and he drops his hand and leans close. She feels his lips on her forehead. She exhales heavily, foolishly thinking he's done.

When he cages her against the wall, kissing her neck, she freezes.

This is only the beginning, and she doesn't know how she still allows it, or why she doesn't push him away and scream. On the day after her wedding even.

.xxxxxx.

"Haruhi told me what you did," Tamaki says. He's not happy, but Kyouya can see he's conflicted. He's trying his friend's patience here, risking their friendship over a few forbidden gestures; however, Kyouya is gambling that Tamaki won't throw away their friendship so easily. Not even Haruhi can wedge herself between them.

"What are you going to do?" Kyouya eyes him mysteriously. He can't help but show it; the situation is somewhat amusing - at least to him.

"You crossed the line, Kyouya. You should stop. I'll forgive you this one time, but don't mess with her like that. Not anymore," he says resolutely. It feels like an order, but in his usual cordiality, Tamaki's trying his best not to insult him.

"If I stop with her, I stop with you." It's his ultimatum. Kyouya hears Tamaki inhale harshly as Kyouya slowly removes his hand from his friend's inner thigh.

.xxxxxx.

"What is this?" Haruhi demands, and then she sees Kyouya duck out from behind Tamaki with a cryptic smirk.

Tamaki comes home that evening and approaches her with desperation. He opens his mouth, but words fail him. His eyes fall to the floor, defeated.

Kyouya taps his chin and his grin grows wider. "An arrangement."

His hand is on the curve of Tamaki's lower back as he gently pushes him inside, closing the front door behind him. He feels Haruhi's eyes on him when she realizes what he means. The sag in her shoulders tells him she'll relent to his demands.

He lifts his chin as Tamaki turns to him, eyes pleading with him, wondering if he's sure this is really going to work.

Kyouya steps forward, his fingers under Tamaki's chin. Haruhi watches in awe as he leans in, his lips hovering centimeters from her husband's.

"There is no more room for discussion. I'm never giving you up," Kyouya says, his grip tightening on Tamaki's chin. His friend makes a cry of submission, and he turns to Haruhi, his eyes turning darker as his tone rings cold. "Either of you."

END


End file.
